Don't Look Now
by CityofJade
Summary: Someones killing young television stars in Chicago. Guess who's next...
1. It Started With Samantha

October 23 is a chilly day in Chicago. The kind of still, harsh chill that freezes you to the bone and steals your breath.

It would explain why the street is silent, just the sounds of pedestrians speed-walking to escape the cold.

A tall blond girl is one of the crowd. She stand straight and confident, hands in her pockets, high heeled boots clicking a rhythm on the sidewalk, with the occasional crunch as a brightly colored leaf crosses her path. Her stately figure is accentuated by a tan trench-coat and black slacks. Her gold mermaid waves cascading down her back, except for her bangs, which are tucked neatly in a floppy brown beret.

This particular girl is unnoticed by many, with their heads bowed, avoiding eye contact or staring at a screen. But if they were to chance a glance they would see her pink lips curling into a half smile, ice blue eyes glittering in amusement.

It's a harsh amusement, like she just saw someone suffer and enjoyed it.

You might shudder and look uncomfortably away, wondering what had caused it.

I know I did.

I had a guess though. I knew this girl. She didn't know me, but I knew her. And if she had know, what I knew about her, maybe the roles would reverse and she would shudder.

Suddenly she frowns and pulls a thin white phone out of her pocket. A sigh escapes her lips, and her harsh amusement is replaced by irritation.

"I know why." I sing to myself.

Because I do.

The blond beauty slips the phone back in her pocket and begins walking faster, her saunter evolving into a speed-walk, so that she finally begins to fully blend with the crowd. Just another face.

She turns in an ally, a shortcut to the other street.

She walks right past me. Doesn't even spare me a glance. Doesn't even notice I'm there. She should have though. She really should have.

It easy, almost too easy to snatch her. To stifle her rising scream behind my gloved hand. She's to shocked to resist, doesn't even struggle as I pull her through a door.

For the first time I allow myself to feel excited. All according to plan.

Then she begins to struggle. To kick and flail. Her ugly floppy beret falls to the floor and I kick it aside.

"Calm down. Calm down Samantha." I try to soothe her. Doesn't she know resistance is futile?

Apparently not, because she squirms harder than ever.

I'm losing patience, she needs to calm down. It won't be any fun otherwise.

" I said calm down." I hiss. One blow is all it takes to make her go limp in my arms, trembling like a leaf, large tears streaking down her face.

I let her go and she scrambles madly towards the door. She frantically jiggles the door knob, but I knew better than to leave it unlocked. I can hear her taking large hiccuping gasps. Poor thing. Probably in shock.

Finally she stills, realizing I haven't come for her yet. She's motionless for a moment, before slowly turning to face me.

Her hair is a mess, the once immaculate waves knotted and falling over her face, her bangs sticking up all over the place.

"Hello Samantha." I say pleasantly.

She doesn't answer, just stares with wide eyes a mascara-y mess.

"Silly girl. You made things so much harder than they needed to be." I say, still smiling, as I stride towards her reaching to cup her cheek in my hand.

She squeaks and slides down, scrabbling to stay as far away as possible.

I laugh and pull my glove off, before reaching back down and wiping away a smear of blood from a tiny cut just below her eye.

She flinches.

I laugh again. "Poor Samantha. Your fame can't save you this time." I whisper.

Right before I pull out my gun.

* * *

><p><strong><em>WrittenPostMortem influenced my sudden obsession in writing horror. Check her out! I loved her story Shudder. Gave me nightmares.<em>**

**_So updates will not be infrequent because my first priority is a PJO fanfic._**

**_So don't get to excited._**

**_There will be copious amounts of Runther, so be prepared!_**


	2. Don't Walk Home Alone

Roquelle Blue slammed her locker shut in exasperation. It had been a long, exhausting day, and she was fed up with everything, and on top of it all, she had to worry about a serial killer.  
>The whole school had been buzzing about it all day. Everyone walking in groups, even inside the building, and talking in hushed whispers, glancing around suspiciously like one of their fellow students might be the killer.<br>Rocky might have been amused by her peers sudden paranoia, if she wasn't just as worried as the rest of them. She had been shocked with the first murder, a young aspiring actress named Samantha Perch, but after the second, she began to worry, the third made her cautious, and the fourth and fifth scared her into a righteous routine of playing it safe. She had a feeling if there were any more she might become a hermit.  
>And Rocky had a little more to worry about than others. The killer, thus far, had only gone after famous or well know T.V. stars, such as twins Eliza and Ezekiel Snow(fourth and fifth), Tristan Chase(second), and Madeline Kensington(she had only been 16), all teens who had been quickly rising to stardom.<p>

Shake It Up had brought her enough fame to occasionally get recognized on the streets and even brought in a few business offers, such as modeling jobs. She supposed it was also enough to make her a potential victim for a serial killer. Or, at least it was enough for her mother to shorten her leash anyway.

Thinking of this, Rocky pulled out her new white smartphone to text Cece, asking if they were going to walk home together. They usually did, but she wasn't going to waste her time waiting if Cece was busy.

_**Are we walking home together?**_

Rocky straddled a bench and waiting patiently for Cece to respond, picking absentmindedly at her chipped pink nail polish.

Finally her phone buzzed, signaling Cece's reply.

_**No, Tinka and I have to stay late. We missed a science test.**_

Rocky stared down at her phone, pleased at her nice grammar, but still slightly confused.

_**I thought didn't allow make-ups.**_

It was true. The stern teacher always said that if you missed it, you didn't try hard enough and shouldn't get credit.

_**We promised to stay after school.**_

Rocky sighed, slipping her phone away again. Cece had been taking a new interest in keeping her grades in check. Rocky supposed it was because she had finally realized that they were juniors in high school and that she needed to get into a good college. Once their new found friend Tinka had realized that Cece was gradually gaining on her, she too had thrown herself into her schoolwork, determined not to let the sometimes clueless party girl get ahead of her.

Not wanting to walk home alone Rocky scanned the crowd for awhile, hoping for a familiar face. She was determined not to give the killer even a glimmer of a chance to get to her.

Unluckily, the thinning crowd was devoid of any of her acquaintances, friends or not.

She was just wondering if she was taking it to far as she counted the money in her school wallet to see if she had enough for a Taxi when a shadow fell over her.  
>"Hey Rocky. Need someone to walk you home?"<p>

It was Gunther Hessenheffer, the striking blond twin to Tinka. He had spent a year in his homeland, caring for the family farm, and had come back a changed man. When he had left he was still a teen, slight and covered in sequins from head to foot, and speaking in a high pitched, heavily accented, ear grating tone. Now? He had certainly grown up. He was a bit more muscular, taller, tamer in his clothing choices, and deeper in his voice.

Now for example, he was wearing a gray button up and blazer, black jeans, navy high-tops and glittery blue tie. Stylish, and only just hinting at his old tastes.

If Rocky had passed him on the street she would have simply thought about him as a well dressed cute blond.

_I did not just think that._ Rocky berated herself.

"I hear there's a serial killer on the loose and I thought you might not want to walk home alone." He continued, startling her from her thoughts and smiling at her befuddled look.

"Oh yes, thank you." Rocky smiled, glad to have the worry lifted from her shoulders. "I was going to get a Taxi."

"Glad that it wasn't necessary." He replied with an easygoing smile, playfully offering his arm, which Rocky accepted.

They walked in silence for almost half a block before Rocky decided to initiate conversation. "How did you know I would be alone?" She finally asked, deciding it was a safe enough question.

"Tinka."

"Oh." Rocky suddenly felt silly. That was so completely obvious.

"Are you going to try to get back on Shake It Up?" She asked instead, trying to get rid of her awkwardness.

Gunther smiled proudly. "Already have."

"What!? How?"

"Tinka begged Ty to recommend me. They gave me a private audition and I was hired." He shrugs, grinning. "I think the only reason Ty did it was because he likes Tinka." He suddenly confides, lowering his voice, despite them not being around anyone they knew.

Rocky giggled, lowering her voice also. "I think so too."

The pair shares a laugh before opening up and trading the silence for a chance to share their misadventures over the year. Gunther telling about life in the old country, and Rocky sharing a few mishaps with Cece.

"Cece was so upset she shredded the scarf. She regretted it immediately of course." Rocky finished, snickering at the memory of Cece's horror and disappointment at Rocky getting the modeling job rather than her.

"I wish I could have seen her face." Gunther commented coming to a stop in front of Rocky's apartment. "She makes the funniest expressions."

Rocky smiled as she fumbled for her keys.

"Gunther, do you want to come in?" She asked, remembering her manners as she unlocked the door.

"No thank you. I have some things to do for my mother."

"Oh, well, come on over any time. And bring your sister." She added, surprised to realize that she actually meant it. The Hessenheffers had grown on her.

"Thanks, I'll take you up on that." Gunther replied, giving her a mock bow. "It was nice seeing you."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing me home."

"It was no problem."


	3. Somebody's Daughter

Carmen Walker was having a great day. The sun was shining in what felt like the first time in forever and she was taking advantage. She had her best friends, Maddie and Sara on either side, a serving of frozen custard, a new outfit, and a day of shopping to look forward too.

She wasn't even thinking about the serial killer, why would she care that a bunch of snooty T.V. stars were getting what they deserved? She was solely focused on her day, and her future boyfriend.

"Has Logan asked you out yet?" Sara asked, sipping her pumpkin spice latte, trying to look sophisticated while twirling a limp curl around a plump finger.

"No." Carmen sighed. "I think he's unsure. It seemed like he was about to once, but got cold feet."

"He could be afraid of rejection. Or, I don't know, losing your friendship." Maddie remarked from her other side, obsessively fixing her luscious blond waves in the reflection of her phone. "Have you ever actually done anything to show him you like him that way?"

Carmen thought about it, staring into her melting custard as if it might show her the answer. "Well, I hinted that I needed a date to the dance next month."

"That's not enough. It's to vague." Maddie replied, stealing a bite of Carmen's custard. She hadn't gotten anything for herself, stating there were, "Just to many calories."

"I told him that his ex was stupid for letting him go."

"All friends say that. It's like, required by law."

Carmen sighed in exasperation, it was impossible to please Maddie. "Sara, what do you think?

But Sara was a few feet behind them, standing stock still and staring with wide eyes into the mouth of the alley they had just passed, latte on the ground, pooling around her feet, whipped cream smeared on the toes of her high heels.

"Sara? What are you doing?" Maddie asked wearily, rolling her eyes and turning back to grab her friends arm.

Maddie seemed not to notice the look of horror on her friends face, but Carmen's heart dropped, dread forming a pit in her stomach as she moved forward to catch a glimpse at what had so obviously scared Sara.

Her stomach rolled, her thoughts pinwheeling as she scrabbled backward. "Maddie! Maddie! Call 911!"

"What? Why?"

Frantically Carmen pointed. A few feet away, among the trash spilling from the dumpster was a body, slashed up so much Carmen could see her bones and internal organs. The only thing left recognizable was her face, pale and frighteningly beautiful, green eyes wide and staring, red hair sticky with blood.  
>Carmen whirled, vomiting on the sidewalk, dropping her custard so that when it hit the ground it splattered all over the place.<p>

"Oh god." Maddie gasped fumbling for her bag. "Oh god."

Despite the mess behind her, Carmen still felt sick. Who could do that to a person? Kill someone in cold blood? She took back what she said earlier, no one deserved that. No one deserved to have their life taken from them. To have their body torn beyond repair. Their remains discarded among the trash.

The street behind her felt quiet. There were still people walking, talking, living their lives, unaware of the carnage that lay so close. She could hear them, on the other side of the much busier street. To wrapped up in their own lives to notice three young girls who had discovered a gruesome secret. Carmen felt chills race up her spine. _Someone had did this, someone like them._

Maddie was beside her, talking to an operator, her voice rising in hysteria. But it felt odd. Disconnected.

_Someone murdered her. They watched the light fade from her eyes. Heard her screams, her pleas. And they kept going._

Her whole head felt fuzzy, her skin tingling. Her grip on Sara's arm loosening. She heard sirens, getting closer, penetrating the fog in her mind.

_She was someones daughter._

Carmen felt weak, so unbelievably weak and dizzy, black spots creeping into her vision.

_She had had her whole life ahead of her._ Carmen thought, slipping out of consciousness as she collapsed.

Carmen Walker's day, was officially ruined.


End file.
